


Frayed Edges

by silkbow



Series: The Modern Assassins [AU-verse] [5]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Gen, Modern Assassins, Multi, OT5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 02:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkbow/pseuds/silkbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the storms come the moments where places and people are put back together, awaiting the next harsh roll of nature over the lands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frayed Edges

It’s cold. The rain slicks down against the window from the dark outside and there is a heavy cloud that’s gathered inside the small cabin the five of them have sought refuge in as well. There is no fire in the grate, not yet as they’ve only just begun to unravel themselves within the dusty barren surfaces of this lonely little cabin in the woods. And there are more pressing matters at hand.

 

“Shaun, did you stop the bleeding?” Rebecca’s voice is low in energy and she looks as tired as she sounds, leaning against a door frame with her arms crossed.

 

Shaun’s sitting on a stiff old sofa that has an alarming amount of moth holes. He grimaces, but checking the cloth he’s holding to his forehead he gives a nod. “Yeah.”

 

Rebecca steps closer, leaning over him to check and tilting his head accordingly. Since she’s only in a tank top he finds himself averting his eyes sideways, though can’t help but notice and feel put out about bruising over her collarbone.

 

“You probably should’ve needed stitches for that.” She says, combing his hair away before straightening up. “But it might not scar, if you treat it right.”

 

“You’re not my mum, Rebecca. I know.” He replies, and while banter is familiar, banter is hard to keep up in the silence of an empty room with all they’d done that night behind them.

 

So as if on cue, the silence of the room is ruptured by a yell in one of the two adjoining rooms in the small cabin. They both straighten up, her arms cross against her chest once more and his fingers curl into the cloth he’s holding, tight.

 

“Guess Luce sorted out his arm.” Rebecca says in a weak way that doesn’t suit her. He knows she needs to sleep, but won’t until Desmond comes back. He knows he’ll have to make her.

 

“Guess she did. No mercy, but quick is efficient.” He muses.

 

Before silence can return and overtake the room he reaches for her elbow without looking at her, tugging her down to the sofa next to him. She takes a minute to relax, sitting down with a still straightened back. Eventually she brings her knees up, hugging them and slinking against his side.

 

“I thought we were going to lose you guys.” She says, head against his shoulder. He slides his fingers through her hair, a small comfort but something he’s come to notice pacifies her. She might’ve once said something about it, how an older brother – or was it her mother, who used to do this to calm her down.

 

“We’re not that easy to get rid of.” He replies. He continues to toy with her hair as time crawls by, even if his bones are aching, it’s worth it as he notes her weight shift heavier and heavier against him.

 

Of course, when Desmond thuds through the door like a spooked blind deer in an art gallery, she gives a start with her head lifts quickly and her eyes flickering open. He gives Desmond a sour look for it, but of course it’s all lost on the other man by the blank expression he has in return.

 

“Time to have us a fire.” Desmond says, arms full of gathered wood. “The shed was pretty empty, but I grabbed what I could. Chopped a few pieces down to size, gathered some stuff that’ll burn easy.”

 

Thud, thud, thud into the grate. Rebecca’s not falling back asleep so Shaun lets her sit up, drawing back his arm from around her shoulders. “I’ve got a light.” She says, wiping the corner of her eye and sitting forward to hoist herself back up to her feet.

 

“There anything in those cupboards to eat, anyway?” Desmond asks, waiting for Rebecca to fish a lighter out of her jacket before crouching back down before the hearth to work on getting a fire going.

 

“Few tins, some aren’t marked.” Rebecca replies with a yawn, interrupted when Lucy appears from the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

 

All eyes are on her, and she knows it, brushing back errant strands of blond hair from her face. “He’s alright, I gave him some meds from the van. Pain killers, something to help him sleep.” She shifts into the kitchenette, leaning against a cupboard. “His arm’ll be fine, but his ankle seems broken. We’re going to need to get it fixed.”

 

“We’re not supposed to be here for more than three days, right?” Desmond asks, settling down on the floor boards in front of the fire he’s managed to start. He feeds it with bits of what he’s gathered and newspaper collected from the van. Shaun’s too drained to bother berating him for picking the one paper in the van he hadn’t yet read.

 

“We’ll have to either send word so someone can meet us at the next safe house, rendezvous some point on the way or stop in somewhere we know is safe.” Lucy concludes, watching Shaun push himself up from the sofa.

 

“There aren’t many safe zones when it comes to clinics like you know, Des.” Rebecca says, returning to the couch and laying down across it now that Shaun had abandoned his spot. “No hospitals are safe, Abstergo knows how to hunt us. That’s why we prefer our own people, when we can get them.”

 

“Allies, or simply unaware people in the field do exist though.” Lucy says, shifting over so Shaun can poke at the coffee maker behind her. He makes a few remarks beneath his breath about a lack of kettles and uncivilized locale. “But finding them is rare, and risky.”

 

“Better to go with our own people, then.” Desmond says, flicking a pinecone into the fire. Lucy nods.

 

“I’m going to see if we’ve got enough equipment to catch a signal, send something out. No, Rebecca—don’t get up.” Lucy says, heading across the room to the door, stepping over Desmond’s boots. “You need to sleep. All of you do—tonight was awful, but we need to recharge and be on our game.”

 

She slides on her coat and Desmond feeds the fire a bit more before pushing up off the ground. “Let me help, at least. Dragging in all the heavy junk.”

 

“Alright, but get that fire a little taller first.” Lucy replies, eying it. “I’ll be looking through what we’ve got. There might not be anything heavy to bring in.”

 

“Gotcha.” He nods, and she slips outside. He returns to sitting in front of the fire.

 

Shaun throws a blanket over Rebecca on the couch, rolling out his shoulder and slowly walking towards Desmond. He pauses a few feet away from him, speaking quietly now that Rebecca’s slipping back asleep. “You heard Lucy about sleep. You need rest more than the rest of us, Desmond. You did good today.” He keeps it short for both their sake, turning away to the adjoining room.

 

“Where are you going?” Desmond asks, crumpling newsprint.

 

“Just checking in on Sleeping Beauty for a second, but feel free to call dibs on what section of the floor you want if it makes you feel special.” He replies, opening the door to the room while Desmond smiles.

 

“Don’t think you get dibs on the pillows in there.”

 

“Oh, but I do.” Shaun retorts, closing the door behind him with a click.


End file.
